


Human Desires

by pokerap



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fluff, well as fluffy as it can get with these two anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 10:13:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokerap/pseuds/pokerap
Summary: The Grimas go to the spring festival. This somehow doesn't end in destruction.





	Human Desires

The Fell Dragon had never expected to find an equal among the ranks of these so-called “Heroes”. Humans really are such pitiable creatures, it was only natural that he would loathe them with his entire being. So naturally, he never expected to find an equal among the sea of self-righteous idiots that make up the Order of Heroes.

Ah, but there is one exception. The only person who can ever truly understand Grima… is himself. Or perhaps it’s better to say _herself_.

He had been startled when he came across a female Robin - a girl who was unmistakably his vessel. He had watched her every movement for days on end, studying this woman to be sure. Yes, she was his vessel, just as the other Robin was. She was simply a woman instead.

Perhaps it had only been a matter of time before his other self arrived or perhaps it was luck that brought her here. Regardless, he had been eager to meet her. Cautious, but eager. There was no telling how she would react to his presence, after all. She hadn’t had the time to get used to the oddities in the Order of Heroes.

The other Grima had challenged him, insisting that she was the true Fell Dragon and that he was only an imposter. It had taken time for her to warm up to him, to realize that yes, he was just another version of herself brought here by the same whims of fate that dragged her into this world.

She did not apologize for her earlier treatment of him. He didn’t need her to.

As a duo they were unstoppable, shredding other teams to bits and pieces with their combined godly might. They destroyed everything that stood in their path and were reluctant to be separate from one another for very long. After all, how could anyone else possibly understand?

One particularly slow day sees a change in their relationship. Most of the members of the Order of Heroes are attending some sort of spring festival, and neither Grima was invited to participate. It’s as they’re lounging about in one of the rooms (her nose tucked in a book, his hands busying themselves in her hair) that she speaks up.

“Would you care to go to the festival?”

“Why should we?” He asks, finishing off another braid. “Festivals like that are for the weak-minded. There is nothing we can gain from debasing ourselves in such a way.”

She hums and turns a page in her book. For a moment he believes that’s all she has to say, but as always she refuses to let him get the last word in. “What if I told you I wanted to go?”

“I fail to see why you would.”

“Curiosity. The humans of this realm - while just as insignificant and pointless as those from my world - have introduced me to some strange things.”

Strange things? What strange things has she been doing with humans? His hands still in her hair and she tips her head to look up at him. “You’ve been mingling with the humans?”

“They are very… _persistent_.” Her voice is disdainful and her expression reads venom. “They do not leave me alone.”

“They will in time.” He reassures her and chooses another section of her pigtail to work on. “They do not bother me any more.”

“Consider yourself lucky. I have yet to scare them off.”

“They must mistake you for our vessel.”

“They do,” She agrees with a dour expression, closing her book with a _snap_ , “and they do not give up even when they realize they are wrong.”

They fall silent, his hands moving from her hair as she sits up. She doesn’t seem bothered by the braids any, but she’s never minded them before now. “Why do you wish to go to this festival?” He asks after a moment more of heavy silence.

His other self is silent, her lips tugging downward in an expression he’s all too familiar with. “There is something I wish to try there.” She finally admits, though it sounds like it pains her.

It isn’t enough of an answer for him, however. He waves a hand as if to tell her to continue.

“Carrot cake,” She says quietly. “I have never experienced such a thing. I have been told there is no equal when it comes to sweets.”

Such an absurd want for a being of immeasurable power such as themselves… There is simply no reason for her to desire such a thing, and yet he cannot find it in himself to scold her for this simple, _human_ desire.

Instead he rises to his feet, holding out a hand for her to take. “Then let us find this cake and return here as quickly as we can. I do not wish to mingle with the humans for very long.”

Her expression doesn’t brighten, not like a human’s would. She does not smile and she does not thank him, but she does take his hand and does not let go even when they leave the room and approach the waiting portal.

As expected, the festival is the highlight of human frivolity. There are costumes and props on nearly every human, with stalls and booths as far as the eye can see housing all sorts of things to be purchased. He wrinkles his nose in distaste and he can see his other do the same beside him. “Disgusting,” She remarks and he nods.

Still, there is the matter of cake. Neither of them are the sort to give up without a fight, and while it may not come to physical blows, this certainly _is_ a fight. “Where will you find your cake?” He asks her as he studies the stalls.

“I am not certain,” She admits. “Any of these vendors could have it. We must search each one.”

She doesn’t wait for him to respond (for surely she knows that he would express dissatisfaction with such an idea), instead she pulls him forward and all he can do is sigh and follow. Were she anyone else he would have destroyed her for daring to treat him in such a manner. He is the Fell Dragon, the wings of despair, the world’s ruin. He is not to be trifled with like this.

But he supposes he can follow her around without complaint for a little bit.

They pass by several stalls without luck. There are many trinkets and outfits that are completely pointless, but there are humans at these stalls looking them over anyway, as though they are items of great value. Despicable. Humans truly never change, no matter what realm they’re in.

He doesn’t get long to ponder the insignificance of human life (his favorite pastime) before she pulls him over to a smaller stall. There’s a glass covering several different types of confections and his other stares at them with narrowed eyes. She asks the stall’s vendor, “Do you have carrot cake?”

“Yes, ma’am, we do!” The vendor is all smiles, her voice practically dripping with honey and charm. “How many pieces would you like?”

“One,” She says, then glances up at him. Her expression is unreadable. “Two,” She amends.

“Two slices coming right up!” The vendor walks into the back of the stall, presumably to obtain the cake.

“I do not need one.”

“I will not have you eating mine.” She replies.

The woman returns with two slices on colorful, flimsy plates. The forks she hands over are tiny, yet another reason for him to question why humans come up with such pointless oddities. There is little purpose in having a fork this small. “That’ll be 200 gold!” She says.

Both of them stare at her blankly. There are often times when he forgets that the humans insist on using gold for everything, even something as necessary as food. Why they insist on using such a pointless monetary system in the first place is beyond him, but surely this mere mortal does not expect the Fell Dragons to pay for something as ridiculous as two slices of cake.

“Nonsense,” She’s saying before he can even find the words, “there is no need for us to carry coin. We are the wings of despair, the—”

Before she can finish her (very familiar) speech, someone behind them clears their throat. Both Fell Dragons turn to look only to find themselves staring at two very familiar faces. “Good afternoon,” Robin greets them with a wary smile. Her counterpart doesn’t look nearly as pleased.

“What are you doing here?” He blurts the question out before he can stop to think about it.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The male Robin responds, his eyes dropping to their colorful plates.

Were he a lesser being, he might have found this situation somewhat humiliating. A god of destruction has no need for cake. The woman at the stall raises her voice, “You have to pay for those!”

Robin - the female one - steps forward and pulls out a small coin purse. She counts out the money and passes it over. “Here, this should do.”

His other self narrows her eyes. “What is the meaning of this?” She demands from her doppleganger.

“I just don’t want to cause a scene. Enjoy the festival, you two.”

The male Robin looks like he’s going to say something, but she tugs at his sleeve and instead he wordlessly follows after her. The Fell Dragons are left in silence.

She doesn’t waste any time in leading them away, though she no longer has his hand in hers. Were he a lesser being he might miss the contact. It takes them quite some time to find a place far enough from the eye-searingly gaudy display of pointless human behavior, but the small hill under a large tree she finds is good enough, he supposes.

They sit, close enough to touch. They do not discuss the Robins’ actions. He suspects she harbors odd feelings about such a thing as well, but he does not question it. There is no sense in thinking about what could cause a human to act in such a baffling way. Humans _always_ act in bewildering ways.

While he thinks, she takes a bite of her cake. One bite quickly becomes two and three. He watches her devour the cake in a manner hardly befitting of a god, but he supposes he doesn’t really mind it when it is coming from one as powerful as himself. “Did you even taste it?” He asks her dryly.

“You’ll enjoy it as much as I did.” She counters. “And if you don’t hurry, I’ll take it from you.”

If she found it to be that desirable, then perhaps there is something to this “carrot cake” after all. He takes a small forkful and tastes it. The sugary sweetness of the icing is new, and coupled with the rich body of the cake, he finds himself taking a second bite quickly, followed by another and another. Were he anyone else, he might fear how undignified he looks as he too finishes the slice of cake in a hurry.

He has no reason to worry, however. The slightest hint of a smirk pulls at his other’s lips, where a dab of that icing remains. Without thinking (a dangerous and very _human_ response) he leans forward until he can press his lips to hers, taking the moment to lick the icing off.

Humans would call it a kiss, especially when her lips press back against his and threaten to overtake him, but those humans would be mistaken. It is simply another aspect of their being; another part of the Fell Dragon.


End file.
